I can only describe it as a
cruel joke, though as to the identity of the originator
of said joke I may but speculate. I have a mirror in my
room aboard the TARDIS. It is part of my dressing-table,
the frame carved from the same glowing mahogany. I cannot
rid myself of the mirror without also discarding the
table and, as such, the mirror stays, mocking me, but
also reminding me of what I am, whatever that may be.

I have no reflection. As I sit
at the table combing out my hair all I can see staring
back at me is an empty room. It makes me question who I
am, not being able to see my face. I am told that I have
not aged a day in almost ten years, but I have no way in
which to confirm this assertion. When I go out, I
typically wear blue because I am told that it is a colour
that suits me. However, it is entirely possible that they
are merely being polite and that it is an entirely
inappropriate colour for me to wear. Other women may
spend hours fussing over their appearance, but for myself
that would be a depressingly fruitless exercise.

It does not help, of course,
that my travelling companion is not the least bit
interested in questions of a sartorial nature.

When I entered the console room,
the heart of our remarkable vessel, the Doctor was
standing at the controls, a newspaper clipping in his
hand.

'Good morning, Doctor,' I said.

'Ah, Mina, good morning,' the
Doctor said. He hastily stuffed the clipping into a
waistcoat pocket.

'Are you all right, Doctor?' I
asked. In truth, he seemed to me to be troubled.

'Perfectly all right,' the
Doctor insisted. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

I was about to pursue the matter
further when the central column of the console stopped
its rhythmic movement.

'Good, we've landed,' the Doctor
announced.

He recovered his velvet jacket
from the back of his favourite armchair and then turned
to appraise me.

'Yes, I believe you'll pass
muster,' he said. Then he pulled the lever on the console
the opened the doors and stepped outside.

I hurried after him.

'And where re we this time,
Doctor?' I asked as I stepped out into the daylight.

'Can't you guess?' he replied.

Of course I could. The smell of
the city alone was quite distinctive. I have visited many
strange an wondrous places in my travels with my
companion, but I always get a shiver running up my time
on our too infrequent visits to Victorian London. It is,
in many ways, like coming home.

'Stay here,' the Doctor
commanded, striding off down the street.

I was not about to be left
behind so I hurried after him. The Doctor ducked into an
alley and I was now so close behind him that I we almost
collided when he stopped short. I peered over his
shoulder in order to discern what had caused him to halt
so abruptly and my hand flew to my mouth.

A body lay on the cobbles. It
was a man's body, but at first glance I could not make
that out. All I could see was the blood and the way the
body had been torn apart.

My stomach heaved and I turned
away, stepping out of the alley in search of fresh air. I
put a hand against the wall to steady myself.

'Mina!' the Doctor snapped,
noticing my presence. 'I thought I told you to stay with
the TARDIS.'

I was in no condition to argue
with him.

A whistle cut through the air.

'The police.' The Doctor said it
as if it were a curse. 'I had hoped to examine the body
before they arrived, but I suspect we had best be
elsewhere. Are you able to walk.'

'You knew that that thing
would be there,' I accused him as he put an arm around me
and began to lead me away.

'Not now, Mina,' the Doctor
hissed in response.

'And where do you two think your
going,' a voice boomed behind us.

The Doctor and I turned slowly
to face the policeman behind us.

'We were just going in search of
a police officer, Constable,' the Doctor answered
smoothly. 'There's something in that alley there that I
believe demands your attention.'

'Yes, we've already spotted
that, thank you, sir,' the constable said. 'Now, I
believe the inspector would like a word with you.'

'Back into the alley?' the
Doctor inquired. 'If it's all the same to you, Constable,
I would rather spare my companion the ordeal of having to
view the body a second time.'

'Right you are, sir,' the
constable agreed. 'If you'll both wait here I'll go and
fetch the inspector for you.'

The Doctor began glancing about
him as soon as the constable was out of sight.

'What are you doing, Doctor?' I
demanded.

'Gauging our chances of making a
run for it,' the Doctor replied.

'Running from the police?' I
said. 'But we haven't done anything wrong. Have we?'

The Doctor looked at me
curiously.

'Whatever do you mean?' he
asked, his grey-blue stare boring into me.

'You knew that body was going to
be there,' I said. 'You know what's going on.'

The Doctor seemed about to say
something when a polite cough distracted his attention.

'Inspector Graves, I presume,'
the Doctor deduced.

Inspector Graves was a short,
rotund man whose strengths, it can only be hoped, lay in
his keen intellect, for his qualities were clearly not
physical.

'You seem to have me at a
disadvantage, sir,' the inspector said in a gravelly
voice.

The Doctor extended a hand.

'I'm the Doctor and this is my
assistant, Mrs Harker,' he said.

'Just 'the Doctor'?' the
inspector inquired sceptically.

'Of course not,' the Doctor
replied. 'Now, how can we help you?'

'Well for a start you can tell
me how you discovered the body,' the inspector said.

'Oh, that's simple enough,' the
Doctor explained with enthusiasm. 'Mrs Harker and I were
out for a walk when we, quite literally, stumbled over
the remains. We had to take a moment or three to recover
our composure after which our first instinct was to go in
search of a police officer. We were in the process of
tracking one down when we ran into your constable here.'

'Hmm.' The inspector still
sounded sceptical, but I was beginning to wonder if
perhaps that was his sole tone of voice. 'And perhaps you
would care to explain what a doctor and his 'assistant'
were doing in Whitechapel of all places?'

'Whitechapel?' the Doctor
gasped. 'I had no idea. I hate to have to admit it,
especially in the presence of a lady, but I am afraid
that, during our walk, I had managed to get us both quite
lost. I no longer knew where we were. Whitechapel, you
say? Oh dear me.'

I hoped that the inspector was
more impressed by this display of ham acting than I was.

'Hmm,' the inspector said again.
'In that case, Doctor, I won't keep you any longer,
though I would appreciate it if you would give your
address to the constable before you leave in case we
require any further help with our enquiries.'

'Quite,' the Doctor agreed.

'Doctor, there is one further
thing,' the inspector continued. 'I wonder if perhaps
your qualifications are medical?'

'I do have a smattering of
medical ability,' the Doctor confessed.

'In that case, I wonder if I
might make a further imposition,' Inspector Graves said.
'To date, the police pathologist has been unable to
provide us with any practical information about these
murders and I was wondering of maybe '

'I might be willing to cast an
eye over this one for you,' the Doctor concluded, 'as a
second opinion? I would be delighted. Anything to help
our fine metropolitan constabulary.'

'Excellent,' the inspector said.
'Ill make arrangements to have you meet the body at the
mortuary.'

'Would it also be possible to
arrange a carriage for my companion?' the Doctor asked.

'That will not be necessary,' I
informed them. 'I am the Doctor's assistant, am I not? I
will need to be present to assist him.'

'Excuse us a moment,' the Doctor
said to our companions, then he led me to one side. 'Are
you sure you want to do this?'

'Who are you?' the man
huddled in the corner asked. He had long brown hair and
piercing grey-blue eyes.

'Oh, I'm just the doctor,'
the stick-like man said. 'I'm here to make you well
again. But you're going to do something for me first.'

The doctor jabbed a slender
blade deep into the other man's forearm. Blood soaked the
sleeve of his stained shirt.

The patient cried out.

'I thought you were a
doctor,' the patient said. 'Aren't doctor's supposed to
help people.'

'And I will help people,' the
doctor purred, 'with your help. See here.'

The doctor rolled up the
patient's sleeve to reveal dozens of small scars.

'You see all of these, do
you?' the Doctor ask. 'No ordinary man could heal so
fast. You are a freak, that's what you are.'

'No,' the patient moaned.

'Oh yes,' the doctor
confirmed, 'just like all those poor individuals one
might see down at the circus. But you're not like them.
They are cripples, but you you are so much more than
a man.'

The doctor prodded his
patient's arm. The wound had already closed itself.

'Together, you and I are
going to unlock your secrets,' the doctor said. 'Just
imagine what I could achieve then.'

* * *

'This is your last chance to
back out,' the Doctor said.

He had removed his jacket and
was wearing a long leather apron. We were in a small
square room. The walls were coated in white and green
tiles and every noise echoed. Light came from small
grates near the ceiling. The body was lying on a slab in
the centre of the dark room, but at that moment it was
covered by a sheet. I was standing in one corner of the
room, the inspector beside me.

The Doctor looked at me, trying
to persuade me with his eyes to leave. I kept my face
impassive. Then, with the flourish of a stage magician,
the Doctor threw back the sheet.

The body was not the horrible
sight I remembered. Someone had clearly made an effort to
clean it up prior to the Doctor's examination.
Nevertheless, I tried not to look at the body directly.
It was not that the sight disgusted me for I had already
steeled myself against it, but rather that, as a result
of what I have become, the site of blood triggers another
more vile instinctual reaction in me, one that I refuse
to ever act upon.

'Well,' the inspector asked.

'Give me a moment, please,' the
Doctor protested. 'The body is still fresh so I would
estimate that time of death was about two hours before we
found him.'

'Two hours?' the inspector
repeated. 'How do you work that one out?'

'Would you kill a man in this
manner in broad daylight?' the Doctor asked. 'No, our
murderer struck just before dawn. Hmm, now this is
curious.'

'What is?' Both the inspector
and I leaned forward as the Doctor investigated the
victim's chest cavity.

'Well, the way the rib cage has
been torn apart is frenzied, animalistic even,' the
Doctor explained. 'I thought at first our killer had cut
open the victim's chest with some kind of implement, but
the indications here are that someone tore him open with
their bare hands.'

'It's the work of a madman,'
Inspector Graves declared. 'I've said as much from the
very beginning.'

'Maybe so, but it doesn't quite
add up,' the Doctor remarked. 'Tell me, were the hearts
removed in all the other murders.'

'Yes, they were,' the inspector
confirmed. 'More evidence of a disturbed mind at work.'

Hmm, but see here,' the Doctor
continued. 'The heart has been removed cleanly. I'd wager
this was done by someone with medical training.'

'An educated man?' the inspector
said. 'I'm sorry, Doctor, but I cannot agree with you. No
gentleman would tear a man apart so.'

'I agree with you,' the Doctor
said uncertainly, though probably for different reasons.
I don't believe an ordinary man would be physically
strong enough. So on the one hand we have a strong
barbarian and on the other, the evidence points to a
careful intellectual. Curious.'

'It almost sounds as if there
are two killers at work, Doctor,' I said.

'Yes, it does,' the Doctor
agreed, 'and it shouldn't.'

'You sound as if you know what's
going on,' the inspector said.

'No, I don't,' the Doctor
replied, 'and that's the problem.'

* * *

The patient was lying on his
stomach. It was too painful to lie on his back. The
doctor had been applying hot pokers there and timing how
long it took the burns to heal. The doctor seemed
delighted with the results and the patient wondered if he
should be pleased also. The doctor seemed to think he
should, but all the patient felt - had felt for as long
as he could remember - was pain.

'Hello, guv'nor,' called a
small voice from outside his room. 'I've brought you your
bread and water.'

There was the scraping sound
of a key turning in a lock and then the door swung open
to reveal a small girl with a dirt-streaked face who was
carrying a tray.

'Hello,' the patient managed.
'Lucy, isn't it?'

'That's right, guv,' Lucy
said. She tipped her cap to him and almost dropped the
tray in the process.

The patient sat up slowly and
took the tray from her.

'If that's all, I'd best be
off, guv,' Lucy said.

'Stay a while,' the patient
insisted. 'Please.'

Lucy sat down on the floor.

'What do you think of the
doctor here?' the patient asked as he tore at the bread.

'He's a good man, guv,' Lucy
replied. 'He took me in after my parents died. The doctor
looks after me.'

'I didn't know you were an
orphan, Lucy,' the patient said. 'I'm sorry.'

'But the doctor looks after
you,' the patient continued. 'And does he look after all
of the patients here?'

'Oh yes, guv,' Lucy assured
him.

'And the beatings and the
burnings, does he do that to all of them too?' the
patient asked.

'Oh no, sir,' Lucy said.
'That's just you.'

'So I'm the only one he
treats like an animal,' the patient said. 'Why?'

'Well, I really shouldn't be
telling you this, guv,' Lucy began, 'but it seems as
though you've got something the doctor wants.'

'But what could I possibly
have?' the patient protested. 'I don't even remember who
I am.'

'Those aren't the sort of
questions I ask,' Lucy told him. 'I'm not a clever sort
like the doctor.'

'But surely you can see what
he's doing is wrong, can't you Lucy?' the patient
pleaded.

'I shouldn't be talking to
you about this,' Lucy said, scrambling to her feet. 'I'll
be on my way now.'

She locked the door behind
her.

* * *

We had retired to the
inspector's office. He and I had exchanged pleasantries
while we waited for the Doctor to clean himself up. I had
learned the fine art of saying nothing in as many words
as possible from my mother. It was an essential skill
when paying ones afternoon calls.

The Doctor burst into the room.

'Well, inspector, I'm sure
you'll agree that that was most enlightening,' he said.

'I hardly think ' the
inspector began.

'Really? That is a shame,' the
Doctor consoled him. 'Still, I'm here now and we'll have
this whole thing resolved before you know it. Tell me,
other than these deaths in Whitechapel, is there anything
else out of the ordinary going on at the moment.'

'There have been a series of
disappearances in Limehouse,' the inspector informed us.

'And you didn't think there
might be a connection?' the Doctor inquired.

'Our killer mutilates his
victims and then leaves their bodies behind,' the
inspector explained. 'In Limehouse the perpetrator leaves
no bodies. Assuming there is a perpetrator, of course.'

'You have some doubts?' I
inquired.

'Well, consider the area, Miss,'
the inspector replied.

'It's Mrs,' I corrected him.
'Mrs Wilhelmina Harker. And what has the area got to do
with it?'

'I'm not sure we should be
discussing such matters in front of a lady,' the
inspector said.

'Inspector, I have just assisted
in a particularly gruesome autopsy,' I told him. 'I do
not think you need worry about sparing further me from
the more disturbing aspects of this case. Now, what is it
about Limehouse that makes you doubt that there is a
kidnapper at work?'

'I should tell her is I were
you,' the Doctor advised Inspector Graves.

'Well, it's the home of those
Chineses and their opium dens, isn't it,' the inspector
pointed out. 'Inspector Haynes has been assigned to
investigate the matter, but most likely our missing
gentlemen are still out there in some drug-induced
stupor.'

'No doubt,' the Doctor said.
'Nevertheless, Mina, I'd like you to look into it.'

'Doctor, are you sure it's wise
to send a lady into Limehouse?' the inspector asked.

'I think you'll find Mrs Harker
more than capable,' the Doctor replied. 'Appearances can
be deceptive and I can assure you, inspector, that Mina
is made of the sternest stuff.'

'And what will you be doing
while I am to be rubbing shoulders with opium sots and
their suppliers?' I inquired of the Doctor.

'Pursuing my own line of
inquiry,' the Doctor replied enigmatically. Then he
turned and strode from the room.

I smiled apologetically at the
inspector, then followed the Doctor out. I kept my
distance, hoping that he would not look back and spot me.
The Doctor knew more than he was letting on about these
deaths - that much had been obvious since we had arrived.
My concern now was that his insistence upon keeping all
of his cards close to his chest might lead to yet more
loss of life. Whatever the Doctor's secret, I was
determined to seek it out.

The Doctor boarded a hansom
outside so I waved down one of my own.

'Where to, ma'am?' the driver
asked me as I stepped inside the carriage.

'Follow that cab,' I told him.

* * *

'Eureka!' the doctor cried,
practically dancing the length of the patient's cell.

Finally he stopped and leaned
in close so that he could whisper into the patient's ear.

'I know your secret,' he
said.

'I don't know what you're
talking about,' the patient said. He tried to crawl as
far away from the doctor as he could, but he was already
pressed up against a wall.

'Don't you now,' the doctor
purred, rubbing his hands together. 'Then let me
enlighten you. You have two hearts.'

'That isn't possible,' the
patient retorted.

'Isn't it?' The doctor
grabbed one of the patient's hands. 'See for yourself.'
He forced the hand against the patient's chest, first on
one side then the other. 'Feel that? Two heartbeats. Two
hearts.'

'No,' the patient moaned.

'That's the secret of you
regenerative abilities, of your strength and vigour,' the
doctor said, 'but it won't be your secret for very much
longer. Once I've finished dissecting you, your secret
will be open to the whole world.'

'You can't do that,' the
patient protested. 'I won't let you.'

The patient lunged forwards,
hands reaching for the doctor's throat. Before he could
even begin to squeeze, however, he had been dragged away
by two burly orderlies.

'Restrain that man,' the
doctor commanded.

The orderlies slipped a
straightjacket on to the patient and tied it tight.

'Enjoy your last afternoon
with us,' the doctor said to him. 'We operate tonight.'

* * *

The cab ride took me deeper into
Whitechapel and south towards Limehouse and the river. It
darkened early at this time of year and already the
evening shadows were drawing in. I shivered despite my
coat and was glad of the brief respite from the weather
afforded to me by the carriage. It was a brief ride,
however, for the Doctor had soon leaped from his cab and
was even now hurrying through the dingy back alleys of
this disreputable quarter.

''Ere, luv, how about letting me
show you a good time?'

The man who accosted me reeked
of alcohol. His hair was greasy and unkempt and several
days' worth of stubble crawled across his chin.

'Excuse me,' I said, trying to
push my way past him.

'What's the matter?' the man
asked, grabbing hold of my arm. 'My coin not good enough
for the likes of you. I've seen your sort before parading
up and down the streets here, hawking your wares, but
then you think you're too good for us. A grocer doesn't
decide he's too good for a customer and neither does a
cheap tart like you.'

'Sir, please let go of my arm,'
I said calmly. 'You are hurting me.'

'I thought you might like a bit
of rough,' the man sneered. He dragged me across the
street and shoved me up against the wall. 'Now, what say
you give me a free ride seeing what trouble you've caused
me an' all.'

I met his eyes with my own.

'I asked you to let go of me,' I
said.

It has been said that the eyes
are the windows to the soul. In this respect, I am glad
that I can no longer see my reflection for I am spared
the sight of what my eyes now say about me. I can only
interpret their power from the reaction of others, and
that reaction disturbs me greatly.

The man holding on to me began
to tremble like a leaf in the autumn wind.

'Sorry, ma'am,' he stammered. 'I
was only messin'. I didn't mean nothink by it.'

He was practically on his knees
now, grovelling in the dirt and the filth. His grip was
no longer tight and painful. Rather he was pawing at my
dress.

'Just go,' I commanded him.

He fled.

I had lost precious time so now
I hitched up my skirts and ran in the direction the
Doctor had taken. My delay, however, may have been indeed
a blessing for that particular alleyway was now swarming
with policemen. Inspector Graves was leading the Doctor
away from another body. Even from this distance I could
tell that the manner of death was the same.

'It appears that I was right not
to trust you, Doctor,' the inspector was saying. 'I
followed you down here from the station and look what I
found. I only wish I could have arrived a moment sooner.'

'And doesn't that puzzle you,
Inspector?' the Doctor asked. 'You were practically
dogging my heels the whole time and yet you imagine that
I was out of your site long enough to do all of this. And
where is the blood, Inspector? Look at me. I should be
covered in blood, but my clothes are virtually spotless.
Explain that for me, please.'

'Doctor, I have found you at the
site of two murders in less than twenty-four hours,' the
inspector said. 'Once might be coincidence, but two.
Doctor, I am placing you under arrest.'

* * *

The patient looked out of the
window of his cell. He could just see the first stars
coming out amid the blue-black sky. It was nearly time.
He had decided that he would not fight them. He would be
hard pressed to anyway, trussed up as he was, but that
was not the reason for his inaction. Rather, he had
decided that things might be better this way. What value
was he to anyone? He did not even know who he was
anymore. The doctor, on the other hand, claimed that his
death and the subsequent study of his organs could
benefit mankind. Weighed up like that, the choice was not
really so difficult after all.

He could hear a key turning
in the lock so the patient clambered awkwardly to his
feet, ready to face his fate. However, the figure that
entered the cell was not the doctor.

'Lucy, what are you doing
here?' the patient asked.

'Keep your voice down,' Lucy
said as she began to unbuckle the straps of his
straightjacket. 'They'll here us.'

'What is going on here?' the
patient asked, this time in a softer tone.

'I'm helping you escape, guv,
that's what,' Lucy replied.

'But I dont want to
escape,' the patient said.

'Don't want to escape? But
the doctor, he's going to kill you.'

'I know that,' the patient
replied, 'but this way I get to help people.'

'You really are a loony,
aren't you,' Lucy said. 'Guess that ain't no surprise,
give where we are an' all. Do you really think a man
who's willing to cut you up has anything but his own best
interests at heart?'

'But '

'He wants your secrets for
himself,' Lucy said. 'I heard him talking. He thinks you
can make him into something more than human, whatever
that means. He thinks it'll make him king.'

'But I thought you liked the
doctor, Lucy,' the patient said.

'The doc's never been any
less than kind to me, guv,' Lucy admitted, 'but I've seen
the way he treats other people. I've seen the way he
treats you. It's wrong, sir, and if I'm to do the right
thing, like in the good book, then I have to get you out
of here.'

'You read, Lucy?' the patient
asked.

'Not I, guv'nor,' Lucy
replied, 'but the doctor reads to me some times. When
we're away from here, will you read to me, sir?'

'You're coming with me?'

'I'll hardly be able to stay
here after the doctor finds out what I've done,' Lucy
pointed out.

'In that case, Lucy, I will
read you whatever you wish,' the patient said. 'Now,
let's be going. I don't believe we have much time.'

* * *

It is a strange thing to admit,
but before I met the Doctor, I had not really paid much
attention to the great divide between men and women in
this century. I had, on occasion, butted heads with men
over certain issues, but in general I knew my place and
did not question it because that was simply how things
were meant to be. However, having now travelled to other
times and places, my eyes have been opened to the vast
potential experiences that are cruelly denied to my sex
in this time.

On occasion, though, the
perception of women at this time can work in my favour.
For example, when I entered the police station less than
an hour after the Doctor had been confined to his cell,
the officer behind the desk had no reason to consider me
a threat.

'Excuse me, sir,' I said, making
a show of straightening my bonnet, 'but there appears to
be some form of disturbance in the street outside. It is
hardly the behaviour one would expect from civilised men
and women. I really think you should put a stop to it.'

'Right you are, ma'am,' the
police officer said and, just like that, he left me alone
at his desk. I snatched up the bundle of keys residing in
plain sight and then made my way down to the cells.

'Mina!' the Doctor called when
he noticed me.

'Doctor,' I replied. I pulled up
a small wooden stall so that I could sit down outside his
cell.

'Mina, aren't you going to let
me out?' the Doctor asked.

'I believe that you have some
explaining to do first,' I replied.

'Mina, we don't have a lot of
time!'

'Than I suggest you talk
quickly,' I responded.

'Mina!'

I got up and turned to go.

'You can't leave me here,' the
Doctor protested.

'I have faith in the British
justice system,' I replied. 'You did not kill those men
so I am sure that you will not be found guilty of the
crime. In the meantime, though, you will not be in a
position to get yourself into any further trouble.'

'Oh, have it your way, Mina,
I'll tell you everything,' the Doctor said. 'Just get me
out of here.'

'Tell me first,' I instructed
him.

The Doctor sighed.

'Some time ago I ended up
stranded on this planet with no memory of who or what I
was. I was admitted to an asylum run by a Doctor Stein.
Stein, however, was more interested in physiology than
psychology and once he discovered that I was something
more than human I became his obsession. He was determined
to unravel what he saw as my secrets. Have you any idea
what it feels like to be poked and prodded and tortured
allegedly in the name of science?'

'Go on, Doctor,' I said. This
was painful for him, I could see that. I had an inkling
of what it was like to live life as a freak, but I had,
with one or two exceptions, managed to keep my true
nature hidden from the rest of the world. The experiences
the Doctor was relating were more by way of my fears than
anything of which I had practical knowledge.

'There was an orphan in the
asylum,' the Doctor said. 'Her name was Lucy. She was
illiterate, but she liked people to read to her. I
remember that clearly. She was such a charming little
thing.

'Eventually, Doctor Stein
learned about my second heart and he resolved to dissect
me to learn more about my unique physiognomy. He told me
that he was doing it for the benefit of mankind, but
Stein only wanted to advance one person - himself. On the
night he was to operate, Lucy helped me to escape and
then '

The Doctor buried his face in
his hands.

'Doctor,' I asked, 'are you all
right?'

'Yes, yes,' he murmured, tilting
his head so that he could look up at me. 'It was a very
long time ago. I read about these murders in a newspaper
on one of our previous stops. I tried for so long to
pretend that it was nothing to do with me, but it's all
too obvious. Stein is harvesting hearts because he is
trying to find a way to become like me.'

'So you came back here to try
and stop the killing,' I deduced.

'I thought I could save them,'
the Doctor replied. 'I knew the time and place of the
murders from the newspaper report. All I had to do was
get there first. But I was deluding myself. As far as
history was concerned, their fates were already sealed
and there was never anything I could do to change it.'

'So what do we do now?' I asked
as I unlocked the door of his cell.

'Now?' the Doctor repeated.
'Now, I think it's high time we bearded the lion in his
own den.'

* * *

Lucy handed the patient a bag
when he stepped out of his cell.

'You were carrying these when
they brought you in,' she explained. 'I thought you might
like them back.'

'That's very kind of you,
Lucy,' the patient said, already rummaging through the
bag. He pulled out a blue cube that fit comfortably in
the palm of his hand. 'I wonder what this could be.'

'No time for that now, guv,'
Lucy said, pulling on his arm.

'Of course not,' the patient
agreed, dropping the cube back into the bag and following
Lucy upstairs. The front door was locked and Lucy had to
spend precious second trying to find the right key.

They could hear shouts
echoing down below.

'They must be looking for
you,' Lucy said. 'Quick, run for it!'

Lucy flung open the door and
the both ran outside. They were standing on the docks on
the north bank of the River Thames. The sun was slowly
setting behind the Tower of London over on their right.
The dying light coloured the water like blood.

'We can escape by boat,' the
patient told Lucy and they both raced forward, knocking
over both dock-workers and the crates they were moving.

A shot rang out.

'Stay right where you are,'
the doctor called.

'Don't listen to him, guv,'
Lucy insisted.

There was another shot and
Lucy fell into the patient's arms. Her clothes felt damp
and when the patient raised one of his hands to examine
it he could see that it was covered with blood.

'Promise me I did the right
thing, guv,' Lucy said. Her words rattled in her throat.
'Promise me you'll help more people than that doctor ever
will.'

'I promise,' the patient said
quietly. 'Rest now.'

The patient closed Lucy's
eyes for the last time.

He turned and met the
doctor's gaze. The doctor levelled his pistol.

'You will come back to me,'
the doctor said. 'Alive or dead, it makes no difference.'

'Never!' the patient shouted
back.

He sprinted for the edge of
the docks and then leaped up into the air. A third shot
rang out. The patient disappeared beneath the waters of
the Thames.

* * *

'This is it,' the Doctor said as
they dismounted from the cab in Wapping. 'This is Stein's
asylum.'

'And you believe he's still
here?' I asked.

'They say that criminals always
return to the scene of their crimes,' the Doctor pointed
out. 'You can wait outside if you prefer.'

I did not bother to answer.
Instead, I climbed up the short flight of steps and
knocked on the door. We waited, but there was no answer.

'Excuse me,' the Doctor said,
before bending down and inserting a wire into the lock.
After a few moments of twisting and prodding, the door
swung opened. Cautiously, we stepped into the gloom.

Now that he mentioned it, there
was a peculiar damp odour about the place. As we
descended further, I noticed condensation on the walls
and the ceiling and water occasionally dripped down to
splash upon the floor.

'We're below the level of the
river,' the Doctor revealed when I shot him a questioning
glance.

A scream cut through the air,
echoing off the walls.

'I don't suppose I could
convince you to stay behind?' the Doctor said to me.
'Thought not. Come on then.'

He broke into a run and I was
hard-pressed to keep up. My shoes kept slipping on the
slimy floor. At last, with my lungs burning painfully
within my chest, we burst into what I can only describe
as a mad scientist's laboratory, as sensationalised in
those science fiction tales of my time.

A young man, unconscious and
stripped to the waist, was tied to a wooden table in the
centre of the oval room. Tall candlesticks provided light
for Doctor Stein to operate by. He himself was standing
beside a trolley laden with gleaming medical implements.
He was wearing an apron and gloves over a morning suit.
The once white apron was now badly stained by blood and
other matter and did not wish to contemplate. He was a
spindly little man who stooped, possibly due to the
weight of his head, which appeared, to me at least, to be
meant for a man of considerably larger stature.

Most bizarre of all, however,
was the straightjacketed creature that crouched at the
far side of the chamber. It's black fur, shot through
with strands of silver-grey, was matted and unkempt, but
its beady eyes were full of a cruel intelligence as they
followed me about the room.

'Still up to your old tricks, I
see, Stein,' the Doctor said.

'You,' Stein growled as his gaze
fell upon my companion. 'The man with no name. Have you
finally found out who you are or are you still searching
for answers?'

'Why are you even here?' Stein
inquired. He was passing a scalpel from one hand to the
other repeatedly. The blade glittered in the candlelight.

'I'm here to fulfil a promise to
a friend,' the Doctor said.

'Doctor,' I said, pointing at
the beast in the straightjacket, 'what is that thing?'

''Doctor' is it?' Stein said
mockingly. 'I thought I was the doctor around here. Are
you perhaps getting ideas above your station?'

'You're no doctor, Stein,' the
Doctor sneered. 'As for Mina's question, that's an
example of Gorilla gorilla graueri, unless I'm
very much mistaken. I take it you used that thing to kill
your victims for you.'

'Criminals?' Stein asked. 'What
can be criminal about wanting to advance mankind? Look at
Cassius here.' Stain pointed at the gorilla. 'He is the
first of a new breed, strengthened by the second heart
that beats within his chest.'

'That's not possible,' I said.

'And yet I have achieved it,'
Stein declared, laughing. 'Now I have only to perfect the
process on a human subject and I will be able to create a
new race, not of men, but of gods!'

'You are quite, quite mad,' I
told him.

'Madness is only the name the
ignorant give to genius,' Stein replied.

'Very profound,' the Doctor
remarked. 'But you still haven't succeeded in grafting a
second heart onto a human being, have you, Stein? That's
why you've been sneaking out at night and snatching
people of the streets, because you've run out of victims
in this asylum to butcher.'

'No,' Stein snarled. 'Still your
secrets are denied to me, but now that you have returned
I can continue where we left off. Once I have completed a
full study of your anatomy I will be able to become like
you.'

'You'll never be like me,' the
Doctor countered.

'We'll see about that,' Stein
said.

He flung the scalpel at the
Doctor. The Doctor raised his arm to block the blade, but
it still tore a nasty gash in his hand. He bit back his
cry of pain, but the moment's delay had given Stein the
opportunity to draw his gun.

'I told you that you would come
back to me,' Stein said. His finger tightened against the
trigger.

I darted forward and shoved the
trolley laden with medical instruments. It struck Doctor
Stein just above the knee and he stumbled backward, his
shot going wild and ricocheting against one of the stone
walls.

'Give it up, Stein,' the Doctor
said, hefting one of the tall candlesticks in his
undamaged left hand.

'Are you insane?' Stein asked.
'Oh yes, I forgot, that was why you were brought here in
the first place.'

He levelled the gun.

The Doctor swung the candlestick
and it struck Stein's right hand with a sharp crack.
Stein cried out in agony and dropped the gun, which then
skidded across the floor.

'You'll pay for that,' Stein
snapped, cursing the Doctor.

'The same way you made Lucy
pay?' the Doctor asked, taking a few practice swings with
his weapon.

Stein reached out and picked up
another of the candlesticks before slipping into a stance
that mirrored the Doctor's own. He lunged forward,
swinging wildly, and the Doctor parried all his blows. My
hands flew to my face. I could hardly bare to watch.
Across the room, the gorilla roared and strained against
his bonds. Both combatants staggered away from each
other, breathing heavily from their exertions.

'If you best me, you'll only
prove me right,' Stein said, 'by showing that you do
possess secrets beyond those of humankind.'

'And if you kill me, Stein,' the
Doctor replied, 'you'll only prove how little you deserve
them, based on your own lack of humanity.'

With that, the Doctor dropped
his candlestick.

'I don't want to fight you,' he
said.

'That's too bad,' Stein replied.

Stein ran forward, swinging his
candlestick like a club. The Doctor dropped to the
ground, sticking out his leg and tripping Stein as he ran
passed. Stein collided with the trolley once again.

'We don't have to do this,
Stein,' the Doctor shouted at him.

Stein fell face down on the
floor.

'Stein?' the Doctor said.
'Stein?'

He hurried over to the other
doctor and rolled his body over. Stein's chest was a
pincushion for those implements he had intended to use to
cut open his victim.

'I'm sorry,' the Doctor said as
he knelt by the corpse. 'Maybe now Lucy can rest in
peace.'

The gorilla roared again. It
strained against the straightjacket and the heavy fabric
tore apart. With another snarl of rage, the beast leaped
across the room and landed on top of the Doctor. The
Doctor wrestled with it as best he could, but the
creature was twice his size and driven by fury at the
death of his master. The Doctor's blows were ineffectual,
but the gorilla's blows were not. I had to look away for
I could no longer bear the sight.

Then I noticed Stein's gun on
the floor at my feet.

Gingerly, I picked it up.
Holding it two-handed, I levelled it and the gorilla.
Then I fired.

I had never fired a gun before
and the recoil nearly tore my arms from their sockets,
but I managed to remain standing. The gorilla screamed as
blood flowed freely from the wound between its shoulder
blades. It turned to face me, fire glittering in its
yellow eyes, saliva trickling from its gaping jaws. It
roared again and I could smell its fetid breath. I stood
my ground, however, because I could still recall the
sight of those bodies on the cobbles of Whitechapel.

Bracing myself against the wall,
I tightened my finger on the trigger and fired again and
again until I had no more bullets left. It was enough.
The monstrous creature gave one final death cry that
seamed to shake the building to its very foundations and
then it collapsed, dead.

* * *

A few days later, we were seated
in a bar on the south bank of the Seine in Paris. The
Doctor no longer showed any outward sign of the injuries
he had sustained at the hands of that creature, but he
still walked with a certain stiffness.

'Doctor,' I asked as I sipped my
wine, 'what are we doing here?'

'Waiting for a friend,' the
Doctor explained. 'I owe you an apology for the way I've
been treating you lately and this is my way of trying to
make amends. Henri, come and join us.'

A dwarf with an oiled moustache
and wearing a top hat and a long scarf came to join us at
our table.

'Doctor,' he said, 'what a
please it is to see you again. I don't suppose I could
trouble you for a drink, hmm?'

'Later, Henri,' the Doctor told
him. 'I have a little job for you first. Mina, I'd like
you to meet an old friend of mine '

'Less of the old, if you don't
mind,' Henri put in.

' Henri de
Toulouse-Lautrec,' the Doctor concluded. 'Henri, let me
introduce you to Mrs Mina Harker, the woman of whom I'd
like to commission a portrait.'